”Jesus Christ Harry, I didn’t do anything,” I stood with my hands on my hips in the middle of our living room. Harry paced in front of me, “Well there has to be a reason why they wrote that article.” I threw my hands up, “I don’t know Harry, maybe they were bored. I don’t have an answer for you.” Harry ran his hands through his hair, “You are no help. You never have anything important to say. You’re always stressing me out and I feel like I have to constantly keep my eyes on you.” My mouth hung open, “Oh I’m sorry I’m such a fucking burden for you Harry. I love that our relationship is so open that you can tell me exactly how you feel without sugar coating it.” Rolling his eyes Harry walked past me into the kitchen, “God, you drive me insane sometimes you know. Just give me some space for once.” I made my way towards the stairs, calling over my shoulder, “Well you know where the door is.” I heard him slam the door. “Asshole,” I muttered.
Harry had come home from the studio ranting about some stupid article that was saying I was a no good girlfriend, pointing out false accusations. It hurt me to read fake shit about myself, the magazine had said I had a drinking problem, that I was on the brink of becoming alcoholic, and that I had a past full of drugs. Cool. Obviously none of it was true, and Harry of all people should know that. He’s met my family and he knows my morals. I sighed, leaning against the bathroom counter. I took off my make up, waiting for the shower to heat up.
I had showered, made and eaten dinner, watched four episodes of Gossip Girl and called Harry twice. It was approaching 1 am and I hadn’t heard from him and he still wasn’t home. “Fine, fuck him. I don’t need him,” I mumbled to myself as I searched our alcohol cabinet. I pulled out a bottle of vodka, ignoring the glasses that were neatly lined up in the cupboard. “Let them think I’m an alcoholic, so what.” I twisted the cap off, taking a drink. I walked back into the living room, turning on another episode and curling into my blanket. Another hour passed by and I had drank nearly an entire bottle. My face was wet from pointless crying I had done every time I checked my phone. Finishing off the bottle, I dropped it onto the ground. My head was buzzing. “Fuck Harry, I do need you,” I cried out into the empty apartment. Warm tears were streaming down my face as I cried into my blanket. I fell into sleep slowly and as I was nodding off the front door opened. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice echoed in my head and he sounded far away. “Baby?” His warm hands settled on my shoulders. I heard him reach down and pick up the empty bottle, “Shit.” He mumbled. I felt him pick me up and carry me bridle style upstairs, into our bathroom. “Come on baby, I need you to throw up.” He set me on the cold bathroom floor. I shivered, holding onto his forearm for support. “Babe?” I mumbled, slowly coming to realization. “Hi Harry,” I spoke in slurred speech. “Hi baby,” He gave me a small smile. “Why do you look so worried, you’re too pretty to be concerned,” I reached out to touch his face. My stomach lurched to my throat and I bent over the toilet bowl, emptying my stomach. “That’s it, babe.” Harry rubbed my back. We sat there for a few more minutes and I threw up the contents of my stomach. Harry steadied me as I brushed my teeth. “I’m sorry,” I muttered while brushing my teeth. I looked down at the counter, my mind still buzzing. “It’s alright baby, we’ll talk in the morning.” He continued to rub my back. I felt tears slip down my cheeks again and Harry’s thumb brushed them away. I spit into the sink and put my toothbrush down. Harry turned me to pull me into a hug. He kissed the top of my head, “Everything is okay.” Harry helped me change into one of his t-shirts and laid me down in bed, pulling the covers over my cold body. He slid his arms around my waist, holding me close.
Sunlight came through the open window the next morning, burning through my eyelids. “Fuck,” I groaned sitting up. I felt Harry’s hands around me. I sat up confused, I certainly did not remember him coming home last night. I poked him, “Harold. Harry. Babe. Harry. Baby. Harold Edward Styles. Wake the fuck up.” He groaned, rolling over. Stretching his long body out, he looked over at me, “Feeling better?” I looked at him confused, “I feel fine. Raging headache but that’s all.” Harry nodded, “Makes sense, you nearly drank your body weight in vodka last night, babe.” “Wait, I’m mad at you. Shut up,” I remembered, jokingly shoving his shoulder. “I know, and I’m sorry babe. I just don’t want the tabloids to keep writing that shit about you,” Harry looked up at me with his bright, apologetic eyes. I nodded, laying my head on his warm chest. I traced his tattoos softly, “I get it. I wish they’d stop too.” Harry sighed into my hair, “I love you.” “I love you too,” I kissed his chest. Harry reached under my chin, titling my head up to meet his lips. I moved to straddle his hips, “Babe, I’ve not even done anything and you’re already hard,” I teased him, biting his lower lip. Harry groaned in response, “You’re a tease.” I shrugged, tossing my hair to one shoulder. I let my hand travel down to his boxers, “We should do this every morning.” Harry smirked at me, “I’m sure it’s a great work out.” He let out a shaky breath as I slipped my hand into his boxers, holding his length. “Fuck, Y/N.” I smirked at him. I puled my hand back out, sliding his boxers down his legs. I slipped my own underwear off before lowering myself down onto him. Harry’s hands slid up my sides, pushing my (his) shirt up and over my head. I ground my hips into his, “Fuck Harry.” I let my head fall back. His hands traveled to my butt, squeezing it a bit. I let out a giggle, looking down at him. He gave me a cheeky smile and I leaned down to kiss him. Harry flipped us over, letting himself be on top now. “Harry,” I moaned as he rocked his hips against mine. “I know babe, just a little longer.” We both released a few seconds later and Harry brought himself down onto his elbows, resting his head on my chest. I played with his hair, running my fingers through the curls. “Don’t leave again.” I whispered. Harry looked up at me, “I won’t baby, I promise.”
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YOU ARE READING
Harry Styles Dirty Imagines
Teen FictionI think the title says pretty much, I have another book with other dirty imagines called " Harry Styles Dirty Pt.2 " Look for it these are from tumblr and other places so none of them are mine excluding a few ❤❤ -Lauren